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Chapter Twenty-Eight

Sin

When Mama had left me in that disgusting room for the night, going who knows where to do whatever she wanted with her freedom, I’d been blissfully alone for hours, sitting on that dirty mattress, the overhead lights on so bright that I could see every stain, every scratch on the floor and along the walls.

Each one told a story. A story of someone I maybe even knew once upon a time. Stories that didn’t end well.

And I refused to allow my story to end in the same way.

But the longer I’d sat there, the more my mind raced.

None of the people who were taken here intended for their lives to end. Just like me. But I’m sure that many of them really had lost their lives in this terrible place.

A heavy pressure had built in my chest at the thought.

Not long after, I could hear commotions somewhere.

There was a vent in this room, high up on the wall, and there was murmuring and then shouting, then a few pops that sounded too much like gunfire not to be.

When footsteps began to pound along from somewhere inside the house, carrying through the same vent, I knew something was happening that the people here hadn’t anticipated. None of this was planned. And I’d guessed the gunshots weren’t from Bert’s people.

It only took a few more minutes for the door to swing open and reveal the disgusting man in question.

Big Beta Bert, in all his greasy, fat glory. Balding, acne all over his face and neck and who knows where else. I certainly don’t want to know. His ugly face had snarled at me as he stepped into the room and slammed the door behind him.

“You’re too much trouble for what you’re worth.”

His words had given me a lot more information than I’m sure he had intended. I knew in that moment that this ruckus was about me, which meant my Alphas had come for me. And he also let me know that he knew something about me that Mama had hinted at earlier that day. Though no additional clues as to what that was.

When he lunged forward, I jumped up and began to dodge him, running in the small room, but it was no use. The moment I’d made it to the door and reached for the knob, he’d grabbed my other arm and wrapped some kind of tie around my wrists behind my back as I screamed and kicked at him.

“So fiery,” he’d grumbled near my ear, his hot breath invading my space. “I intend to have a lot of fun with you, little girl. You’re going to be screaming and begging me for mercy before long. But I’ll give you a hint.” This tub of human waste licked the side of my face, and I had to clench my teeth to the point of breaking to silence my disgusted cry. “You won’t get a lick of mercy. Never again.”

He’d held me up by my bound arms, my shoulders screaming, but I wouldn’t voice my pain, even making it worse by kicking and snarling, doing my best to bite any part of him that came near me as he began to pull at my shirt. I had to swallow down the vomit climbing up my esophagus, and a blink later, the door flew open again.

This time, it had been Ilya. My beautiful, fierce Alpha who went from controlled observance to utterly feral at the sight before him, leaping onto Bert’s back and choking him.

When Cade and Garen arrived on his heels, my entire body gave out as Garen held me in place after untying me. The thought of being saved finally felt real then, and when I’d been surrounded by my mates in a comforting embrace, I let go completely.

I loathe crying. I hate feeling or looking weak. But my Alphas had supported me. And did so again when they handed me that gun.

I’d let my rage burn, desiring nothing less than Bert’s drawn out death, painful and humiliating. Which is why I took aim at the one weapon he had that he loved the most.

Shooting and stomping on his disgusting dick is the only way I’d ever willingly touch it.

Letting him bleed out on the floor of one of his torture rooms seems too good for him, but we have more to deal with.

Namely, the old woman I’m staring down now in the living room upstairs.

Mama looks absolutely pitiful right now, her usually well-kept hair in total disarray about her completely makeupless face, her wrinkles prominent from the lack of covering and accentuated by the light filling the room.

This woman has been controlling my life and the lives of so many Omegas for more years than I’ve been alive. And standing here now, looking at her tiny, weak form, I can’t for the life of me figure out how she’s gotten away with this for so long.

Where did she even obtain this power from? Did we just willingly give it to her?

As I stand here, all the emotions inside me begin to fade away, until there’s nothing but numbness.

“Why do you hate Omegas so much?”